55
His steed hurries homewards,
Darkling and dim;
Right fearful it prances
With Halbert the Grim.
Still fiercer it tramples,
The spur gores its side;
Now downward and downward
Grim Halbert doth ride.
The brown wood is threaded,
The grey flood is past.
Yet hoarser and wilder
Moans ever the blast.
No star lends its taper,
No moon sheds her glow;
For dark is the dull path
That Baron must go.
Though starless the sky, and
No moon shines abroad,
Yet, flashing with fire, all
At once gleams the road.
